


011100000111001001101001011001010111001101110100

by VenusBrutalis



Series: Metamorphosis [2]
Category: Priest (Swedish Band)
Genre: Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 12:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10719393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusBrutalis/pseuds/VenusBrutalis
Summary: The word metamorphosis derives from Greek μεταμόρφωσις, "transformation, transforming", from μετα- (meta-), "change" and μορφή (morphe), "form".





	011100000111001001101001011001010111001101110100

An observer's note, as they encounter The First:

The marks became noticeable on more and more people. Spreading like a virus to which there was no cure. She still walked among us, the one we call The First. She never spoke of her experience, she just emerged from her bondage with an expression of wonder on her face, as if she was trying to make sense of something too complex for her understanding. The Puppet Master refused no one. Every consenting being within the plethora of gender and sexuality was accepted into his spiked embrace.

I entered the elevator that was to take me to down the bowels of this wretched earth, when I felt a presence behind me. It was her, The First. The glowing red light indicated our descent. Her eyes probed me, but it didn’t feel invasive, though my high heels became a nuisance, and the leather almost felt suffocating against my skin. She moved closer to me, almost pinning me against the wall. My untimely erection must have been noticeable to her, as well as the absence of marks, but she just looked me in the eyes, as her lips began to move. I felt her warm breath against mine, as she spoke.

_«He will have us all»_

A dizziness came over me.

Had the red glow always been this strong?

 

* * *

 

 

I ran my fingertips across the marks that had been meticulously forged by my mysterious companion. Small, circular dents, that took unnaturally long to fade away. It was as if my flesh accepted them as a part of its new texture. I wasn’t covered in them, however, they only took on hold on my most supple parts, and of course around my throat; his most favoured location. The warm water softened my skin, and I submerged myself in it. I wondered what it felt like when we were inside the womb, did it feel this blissful? This safe? Carefully carried within another human being, only to emerge into a harsh world, perhaps we would always long to return, in one form or another. _Metamorphosis._ I shuddered at the sudden thought of that word. The marks would surely disappear.

 

The city never slept, and through my windows I could see the endless neon signs, and the constant turmoil of mankind and technology; cars, laughter, sirens, music, shouting, all blended into what could only be referred to as noise. My thoughts went to the problematic Futurists of the past millennium, who would surely revel in this urban landscape. « _We want to hymn the man at the wheel, who hurls the lance of his spirit across the Earth, along the circle of its orbit»_ I hardly noticed the damp that crept slowly out from the bathroom, coiling itself around my ankles. A tingling sensation, almost electric in nature, flushed over me like a wave. Did I forget to turn the water off? I wanted to check, but my body felt heavy. The soft smoke seemed to lead me to my bed, and I lied down. Droplets of water still covered me, and seemed to shiver in the presence of the alluring fog. My marks began to ache, as if the process began again. My fingertip grazed one of the marks, and it felt different. I wanted to look, but I couldn’t muster the strength to open my eyes. It felt like I was in water again, but the watery smoke caressed me in ways no liquid known to man was capable of. 

 

As I closed my eyes, I saw him. The sounds around me became muffled, I could only hear a faint musical beat. Or was it my own vessel? I couldn’t distinguish it, not now. My hands began to follow the movements of the haze; seeking the hidden folds between my legs. My middle finger gently stroked the inner lips, as I placed two fingers from my left hand above the enticing entrance. The mild pressure made promise of pleasures to come. Not yet, but soon. I imagined his tongue and how surreal it felt to have his spiked silhouette between my thighs, and mimicked his oral lashes with my finger. If only I cold tie him down, and sit on his torturous face, riding it until pain and pleasure became a new sensation, a sensation that would bring forth an orgasm of a new level. My mouth was half open in ecstasy, and I could feel the vaporous surrounding slither itself down my throat. Did I consume it, or was I about to become consumed from within? The notion should have unsettled me, but I felt no fear, no danger, just pure lust. I put more pressure on my clit, circulating my fingertip with skilled precision. His voice came to mind. In the nights and days after our encounter, I began to realise that there was something about it that seemed uncanny, as if it had a slightly underlying monotone aspect. _«Come…»_

 

My marks felt heated and swollen, but then again my entire physical body was in a heightened state, as I masturbated almost frantically. I raised my hips and moved them against my hands, letting the two fingers glide inside of me. His apparition was clearer now, in my mind, as if he was present; with me and within me. I withered on the bed, like a serpent, ignoring the glowing pain of the marks. For a blissful moment, it all ceased. In my climax, everything became absolute bliss. It felt as if I was suspended in white, amazing nothingness. Exhaling broke the spell, and I found myself thrown back into reality; the cacophony from outside felt even louder than before, and the usual soothing texture of my bed linen now felt crass against my skin. I sat up and looked at my body. A terrifying jolt went through me. The impressions made by the Puppet Master had changed form, and were now red patterns of 0s and 1s. 

 

I was covered in binary code. 


End file.
